


And we'll not fail

by elanorelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst and Humor, Episode Related, M/M, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:51:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elanorelle/pseuds/elanorelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe tonight won't be another Sadie Hawkins, but it probably won't be as trouble-free as Kurt seems to be imagining, and if this is the only means Blaine has of dealing with that, then he's going to take it.</p><p>(Set during 2x20, Prom Queen.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	And we'll not fail

**Author's Note:**

> Why Blaine might have wanted to sing with New Directions on prom night, and why Kurt might not have done. Otherwise known as my attempt to fill in some of the ~~gaping plot holes~~ narrative gaps left behind by the Glee writers (I know, I know, an impossible task if ever there was one). This is ridiculously after the fact: while I really did start it right after the episode aired, I think we should all know by now that I am not the speediest writer in town. Hopefully someone somewhere will still be in the mood for it.
> 
> Spoilers up to and including 2x20, Prom Queen. Warnings for homophobic slurs and mentions of violence, though brief and within the context of memory. Also, I'm not sure whether the consensus is that prom took place on a Saturday, but I'm saying Friday, mostly because it suits me better but also because performing "Friday" like that on any other day of the week is unthinkable. XD
> 
> Many thanks to for beta (hurray!). Title from Shakespeare, though I nearly just called it "COURAGE" for the lulz.

When Kurt asks him to prom, Blaine says yes, because that seems to be his default setting, these days.

He's actually starting to wonder if maybe Kurt's bow ties give him special powers of persuasion, but then last week Blaine had somehow ended up agreeing to a _Bridezillas_ marathon and Kurt hadn't been wearing a bow tie then, so it's possible Blaine's theory needs a little work.

Still, regardless of whether any or all of Kurt's accessories grant him the power of mind control, Blaine has again said yes to one of Kurt's requests which means that he and Kurt are going to prom together.

 _Prom_. At _McKinley_.

Christ, Blaine's going to need some kind of plan to get through this one.

.

A couple of days after Kurt's prom proposal, something comes up that Blaine thinks he might be able to use to his advantage. He and Kurt are video chatting on Skype (Blaine isn't allowed to come over while Kurt's still working on his prom outfit) and Kurt mentions the fact that New Directions are going to be providing the music on prom night.

"Really?" Blaine asks, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it is Kurt's currently got in his sewing machine. "That seems ... unorthodox."

Kurt shrugs, not looking up from what Blaine _thinks_ is probably a sleeve he's hemming. "It's hardly the weirdest thing we've ever done," he says. "Besides, hopefully this way the amount of inevitable prom night drama will be limited by all the time spent singing instead."

"There's drama?" Blaine asks curiously, because Kurt hasn't mentioned anything recently and usually if there's gossip he tells Blaine about it before he talks about anything else.

"Oh, nothing new," Kurt says, still not looking up. "It just might help if Finn is distracted from the fact that he's taking Quinn to prom when he _really_ wants to be taking Rachel; also there's definitely _something_ going on with Puckerman, not to mention the whole Santana and Karofsky charade."

Blaine nods and hums vaguely in agreement – though he's mostly focused on the way Kurt's face is set in such a fierce look of concentration and how adorable that is – before the thought strikes him.

Singing, he thinks. Singing is good. Singing is _safe_ , more importantly, because it's something Blaine knows and is familiar with and if he does it right then it'll give everyone at prom something else to focus on other than the fact he's there as Kurt's date.

He hates feeling like he needs a buffer for that, something to distract people from it, but he's also not naïve enough to think that just because the school has allowed Kurt to bring his boyfriend to prom, that it means the student body at large is going to be okay with them being there together. Maybe it won't be another Sadie Hawkins (Blaine hopes, _god he hopes_ , that it won't be like that), but it probably won't be as trouble-free as Kurt seems to be imagining, and if this is the only means Blaine has of dealing with that, then he's going to take it.

Because performing, in the end, is all about confidence: about bravado and bluster and putting on a show, and Blaine is excellent at all those things, so much so that it might be enough to carry him through the evening unscathed.

It's worth a shot, at least.

"Hey," he says, quietly, not wanting to arrest Kurt's attention too abruptly when what he's currently doing involves a very large, very fast-moving needle. "Hey, do you think ... I mean, would it be weird if I maybe sang with you guys, too?"

Kurt finally looks up from his sewing. "Hmm? What?" he asks. "Say that again, please."

Blaine swallows, fidgeting nervously in his chair. "Well, I was wondering if maybe it would be all right if I joined the glee club, just for prom night. So I could sing something too."

Kurt blinks at him, confused or surprised or maybe both, Blaine can't tell. "You want to sing with the glee club?" he eventually asks.

"Only if it's all right," Blaine says, hurriedly. "And just, like, one song. I know I'm not a member, I don't want to step on anybody's toes."

Kurt tilts his head to one side, considering Blaine with the same intensity he's been focusing on his prom outfit. Turns out it's less adorable when it's making Blaine feel like he's under a microscope.

"Where's this idea suddenly come from?" Kurt asks, a little warily.

Blaine wants to be honest, but he thinks if he is then Kurt might call the whole thing off and Blaine doesn't want that, not when Kurt has a half-completed outfit and a list of things that Blaine might wear to complement it, in addition to an unrelenting belief that prom is going to be a good experience, for both of them.

Blaine's not so sure, but he's also not sure that he's ready to let Kurt see him in all his glaring insecurity, so he slaps on a smile, shrugs and says: "It just sounds like fun, is all. And come on, since when have I ever passed up a turn in the spotlight?"

He feels completely transparent, like Kurt can see right through to his shrinking, terrified heart, but if that's true then Kurt doesn't call him on it, just smiles back at him and says: "Very well, Blaine Warbler, I hereby grant you permission to join glee club for the evening."

Blaine feels a lot more relaxed, all of sudden, his smile more genuine, and then Kurt says: "You might want to check with somebody else, though – Rachel or Finn, perhaps. Just in case my opinion isn't considered unbiased enough." He frowns. "Actually, on second thought: don't ask Rachel. She'll probably take that to mean you want to sing a duet with her. Finn, ask Finn, the chances of him wanting to sing with you are markedly lower."

Blaine just laughs.

"I'm serious, Blaine," Kurt says sternly. "There is no way I'm having one of the enduring memories of my Junior Prom be Rachel Berry singing 'Endless Love' with the boy I brought as my date."

"Okay, okay," Blaine says, still laughing a little. "Finn, not Rachel. Got it."

"All right, then," Kurt says, turning back to the sewing machine. "Now, unless you want me to end the video part of this call right now, I suggest you _stop_ trying to sneak a peek at my outfit before it's done."

.

The next day, Kurt finally consents to let himself be seen in his prom ensemble, and while Blaine is waiting in the living room for the big reveal, he asks Finn about singing with the glee club.

Finn's _yeah, totally_ , is so immediate and so laid-back that Blaine can't help but think Kurt must have mentioned the idea to him already. He wonders for a second what else Kurt's told him, but mostly he's just relieved because now he definitely has something else to focus on: something that's hopefully going to make his fears about this night a lot more manageable.

Then Kurt finally appears, and he's wearing a _kilt_ , and Blaine wonders if singing one song will be enough, after all.

.

Blaine stays in the living room for five minutes after Kurt's left it, sharing an awkward conversation with Finn and Burt about the Buckeyes, before he gets up and says: "I'd better—"

They both nod, not needing any more explanation than that, and Blaine thinks that Burt's expression in particular says: _rather you than me, kid_.

Taking the stairs as slowly as he can, he tries to get his thoughts in some kind of order.

Kurt assumes he doesn't like the outfit, obviously, which couldn't be further from the truth. Blaine _loves_ the outfit (and that's part of the problem, really, how _much_ he likes it, because he's honestly not sure he can spend an evening with Kurt dressed like _that_ and keep what could be termed an appropriate distance), loves how utterly _Kurt_ it is, in every detail, so bold and uncompromising and just a _little_ bit too much but in the very best possible way. Also, the fact that Kurt made it himself? Blaine _really_ loves that; loves that sometimes Kurt has to turn to his sewing machine and actually _create_ an outfit because nothing less than the very thing he has pictured in his mind will do.

He knows no one at McKinley will see any of that, though: to them, Kurt will just be a gay boy ( _fucking queer_ ) in a skirt, flaunting himself and, by association, Blaine ( _this cocksucker your fucking_ girlfriend _, now, Anderson?_ ), daring to stand up and be noticed rather than sticking to the shadows where no one can see, where the fact of their relationship can't be forced down anyone's throat (and in the dark of the parking lot it's three swift kicks to the ribs to slam the point home that this is where you belong, and where you'll stay).

If things were different ( _if you were braver_ , a small, insidious voice at the back of his mind says), if Blaine thought that he _could_ , he'd grab Kurt by the hand and parade him in front of everyone, as if to say: "look, look at this boy of mine, look at what he can do, isn't he incredible?" But things are what they are, and he and Kurt live where they live, and Blaine still has a scar on his back from where he fell hard on the curb ( _how'd'ya like that, fags?_ ) and he can't, _he can't_ , he just can't.

In fairness, he doesn't think that's what Kurt is asking of him, not really (though in effect the outfit is doing it for him), but it's just hard knowing that maybe, if Kurt wasn't _Kurt_ , this whole thing would be a hell of a lot simpler.

He hates himself for the thought even as he's having it, but now he's standing in front of Kurt's not-quite-closed bedroom door and there's no more time for him to think.

He knocks even though the door isn't shut tight, and he still enters the room even when a response from Kurt isn't forthcoming: he figures if Kurt didn't want him in there, he'd be making more of an effort to keep him out.

"Kurt?" he says, anyway, just in case Kurt is getting changed or something. As soon as he gets the door mostly open, though, he can see Kurt just sitting on the bed, still wearing his prom outfit, looking down at his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

"I'm sorry," he says abruptly, sounding unhappy but determined in whatever it is he's about to say. "I'm know I'm making this harder for you, but I can't— this is _me_ , this is who I am and I can't just turn that off. I won't. Not anymore." _Not even for you_ , he doesn't add, but Blaine knows it to be true, in any case. He could choose to be offended, but he knows this already about Kurt: knows he is unwilling to limit himself for anything or anyone, no matter how much he cares for them.

Blaine would never want him to do it anyway.

He steps further into the room, kneels in front of Kurt, lets his hands come to rest on the rough fabric of the kilt, where it's fanned out at either side on the bedclothes. "I know," he says. "It's okay."

"Is it?" Kurt asks, sceptically. "Your expression downstairs seemed to say otherwise."

Blaine shrugs. "I've never seen you in a kilt before," he says. "It was a surprise." That's true, at least, and though he's not expecting Kurt to believe it as the whole truth, he hopes it will be enough to smooth out the awkwardness of the situation.

Sure enough, most of the tension seems to drain away from his shoulders and he slumps forward a little so that his and Blaine's foreheads are almost touching. "I've been working on it since I got back to McKinley," he says. "Just for fun, at first, but then ... then you said yes, so."

Blaine's chest feels tight, all of a sudden. "It shows," he says. "Seriously, Kurt, I can't believe you _made_ this, you look incredible." He can say that to Kurt, anyway, even if he can't quite say it to the kids at prom.

"Naturally," Kurt says, almost on reflex. Then he raises his head to meet Blaine's eye and says: "I meant what I said downstairs, you know. If this is all ... too much, you don't have to come. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

Blaine can't help but notice that the offer of staying away entirely and going to the movies instead seems to be off the table, though that's not too terribly surprising, really: now that the gauntlet's been thrown, the tickets bought and the outfit created, nothing is going to stop Kurt from going to prom the way he's planned. Even if he goes it alone.

Blaine likes that idea even less than Kurt probably does, and so he shakes his head with something approaching conviction and says: "Like I said, it's fine."

Kurt's brow furrows, just a little. "Are you sure?" he says. "Because I want this to be something we enjoy rather than endure, Blaine. I want us to have _fun_."

"So we'll have fun," Blaine says, with more confidence than he really feels. "How hard can it be?"

Kurt's gaze is still full of uncertainty, and Blaine wants it gone. He brings a hand up to brush softly over Kurt's jacket. "You and I are going to prom," he says. "You'll wear this, and you'll look amazing, and I will try my very hardest to pick out something that won't completely embarrass you, and we'll sing and we'll watch any drama that unfolds—" (he doesn't say they'll dance because he doesn't know if he'll be able to follow through on that one) "—and it'll be an evening we'll never forget." _For better or worse_ , he finishes silently.

Kurt looks at him intently for a long moment, then leans in and kisses him, one of his hands coming up to rest against Blaine's jaw. When they part, his thumb brushes gently against Blaine's bottom lip, and Blaine presses a kiss to that as well.

Kurt smiles softly at him. "Thank you," he says. He has both hands on Blaine's face, now, his thumbs stroking gently over Blaine's cheekbones.

Blaine shifts even closer, leaning into the touch. "You're welcome," he murmurs.

For a second, they just look at each other, quiet and still, but then Kurt drops his hands and sits up a little straighter, saying: "Now, I believe I heard the words 'amazing' and 'incredible' pass your lips a moment ago. I don't suppose you'd care to go into a little more detail at this point?"

"With pleasure," Blaine says with a grin, and he does.

.

Later that week, Blaine spends an afternoon at McKinley with the glee club, trying to put together something resembling a set list for prom night. As far as he can tell, and judging by what Kurt's told him, the whole thing will rendered largely moot on the night itself, as people just sort of sing what they want, when they want. Blaine can't quite get his head around that level of disorganisation, but it seems to work for them if their win at Regionals is anything to go by, so he just sits quietly and waits for his turn to speak.

It doesn't take him very long to realise that Kurt isn't there (everything seems a lot louder and more chaotic without Kurt around to hold his hand and explain things like why Rachel is obsessed with singing some terrible 70s song about teenage pregnancy, or the strange fixation half the guys in New Directions have on Justin Bieber), and when the only response he gets to his texts is: _Not coming to rehearsal. Explain later. Remember, no singing with Rachel. x_ , Blaine decides to ask Finn what's going on.

Finn looks at him in mild confusion, which, in fairness, seems to be Finn's natural state. "Dude," he says, "Kurt's not singing at prom, didn't he tell you?"

"No," Blaine says slowly. "No, he didn't. Do you know why?"

Finn shrugs. "Nope. He just found Mr. Schue earlier and told him he didn't want to be involved." He leans in closer and says to Blaine confidentially: "Rachel's totally pissed, I think she was hoping he might sing a Sonny and Cher duet with her."

Blaine blinks at him. "Which one of them was going to sing the Cher part?" he asks, eventually.

Finn shrugs again and his face screws up in distress. "I don't even know," he says. "To be honest, I think she just wanted an excuse to fight with him about it, they kinda do that a lot."

Tina interrupts them at that point, asking Blaine if he'd like to sing a duet with her as well as his own song, and Blaine's so touched by the offer that he forgets about Kurt's absence for a good minute and a half, until the conversation moves on again, this time to whether or not Puck, Sam and Artie can sing some terrible song they've found on the internet as the opening number.

Kurt calls him that night when they're both meant to be doing homework, and Blaine listens to him rant for ten minutes about how impossible it is to sew beads onto the material he's chosen for his suit jacket before he finally runs out of steam and Blaine can get a word in to ask him why he isn't singing anything at prom.

"Coach Sylvester vetoed any and all show tunes," Kurt says, airily. "So that's basically my entire repertoire gone."

Blaine frowns. "You sing other stuff, too."

"Mm, yeah, which Judy Garland number do you think the football team would like the best?"

"Kurt."

Kurt sighs, the sound of it coming harsh and slightly crackled through Blaine's phone. It takes him a minute to say anything and Blaine wishes they'd done this on Skype so he could at least know what Kurt's expression looks like right now.

"Contrary to what my dad might think," Kurt says eventually, "I'm not actually going to prom because it'll get me attention. I didn't buy my ticket in the hopes that I'd spend the evening with half the school gawping at me."

Blaine bites his lip and says, hesitantly: "But ... the other day, in your room, you said—"

"I know what I said, but there's only so much I—" Kurt breaks off mid-sentence, and Blaine can imagine he's got one hand to his mouth, touching his bottom lip nervously while he thinks of what to say next. Blaine just sits and waits for him to carry on, and eventually he does: "The way I dress is important to me. But wanting people to notice me for _that_ doesn't necessarily mean I want them to do it for any reason whatsoever. I want us to go to prom without making a spectacle out of it, which is what the whole thing will become if I get up on stage and sing ... anything."

Blaine wants to tell him that's not true, but he knows Kurt has a point; when he opens his mouth to sing, people always take notice, it's just in this instance that isn't necessarily a good thing. It's so unfair, because Kurt's voice is beautiful and always deserves to be heard, in Blaine's opinion, but he can see how it might be easier (for everyone, not just the two of them) if he doesn't sing with the rest of the group.

Blaine swallows, the twisted knot of worry still sitting heavy in his stomach. "Should I— I mean, would you rather I didn't sing either, then? If you don't want too much attention it might be better if—"

"No," Kurt says insistently. "No, you should sing. I know— I know it means a lot to you, and anyway, if I'm not performing it'll be helpful for the others to have another person there to fill in. I'm just—" a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, "trying to limit my own exposure to ridicule as much as possible, here."

Blaine nods, only remembering afterwards that Kurt can't see him, but before he can think of anything to actually say, Kurt breezily starts talking about what he's planning to do with his hair and Blaine figures that means the subject's been dropped.

.

Blaine spends the day of the prom in a state of high anxiety, barely paying attention in class and earning a stern reprimand from the rest of the Warblers when he begs out of practice early so he can go home and start getting ready. Wes and David both know about Blaine's past experiences, though, know how nervous he is about this whole thing, so they let him go without _too_ many threats of bodily harm if he isn't putting in a hundred percent effort again by next week. Thad's another story, but that's only to be expected.

It takes him a long time to get ready, to shower and dress and fix his hair. It's important, though, to get it right. He needs to get this _right_ , so he shines his shoes and ties his tie in _just_ the right way and he makes sure his collar is straight.

All the while, he practices not looking as terrified as he feels in the mirror on his bedroom wall.

It isn't until he's checking he has everything he needs in his overnight bag that he hears the front door open and close for, presumably, one or other of his parents, and when he finally makes it down to the hallway, his dad is still there, going through the mail.

Blaine's parents haven't really spoken to him much about prom since he first told them he was going. _He's_ talked to _them_ about it, it's just they haven't said a whole lot in return. He's told them everything he can to try and set their minds at relative ease: how many of Kurt's friends will be there, about the Bully Whips and how they've been keeping an eye on things (he may have neglected to mention the fact that one of them is a closeted former bully who possibly has a slightly unhealthy fixation on Kurt, but that's for everyone's peace of mind), how they won't even be driving there and back alone because they'll be giving Tina and Mike a ride in Blaine's car.

Everything he's told them has been met with nods and quiet acquiescence, but they haven't actually _said_ anything in particular, which leads Blaine to believe they're not happy with the situation. Sure enough, when his dad looks up and sees him coming down the stairs, his jaw tightens in clear disapproval and he says: "You're going, then?"

Blaine nods and stops a few feet away from his father. "Yeah, dad, I told you."

"I hoped you might have changed your mind since then."

Blaine shifts in place awkwardly, wishing he had something in his hands to stop them from fidgeting: he meant to bring Kurt some flowers this evening, he can't believe he forgot. "This is important," he says. "To Kurt. He really wants me to go with him and I— I want to go with him, too."

His father doesn't say anything for a long moment. Blaine has yet to figure out how his parents really feel about Kurt: they haven't said a word against him, so far, and the few times they've met him they've been polite and friendly and seemingly interested in everything he has to say. Of course it probably helps a lot that Kurt, being Kurt, has naturally responded in kind, and so for all Blaine knows their approval extends solely to his boyfriend's impeccable manners and the fact that he makes a very pleasant dinner guest.

Eventually, his dad clears his throat and remarks: "Your mother says you're planning to sing, as well."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Being so ... visible?"

Blaine knows – or at least he hopes – that his parents' concern is not for Blaine's "visibility" in general terms, as it relates to certain, unchangeable aspects of himself, but rather for its potential effect on this particular situation; for two cracked ribs and a broken nose and _dad, it's Blaine, I'm at the hospital_ , and other things he knows his parents would rather not remember, or ever have experienced in the first place.

He knows all that, and yet he still can't help the way his voice comes out sharp and clipped when he says: "It's just a couple of songs, dad, it's not a big deal. And it's not like I'll be alone up there, either. The whole glee club's involved, I'll be singing _with_ them."

"With Kurt?"

"No," Blaine says slowly, carefully. "No, Kurt's decided he'd rather not perform."

His dad nods, looking fractionally less concerned than he did a moment ago. "Well," he says. "That's something, I guess. Best not to draw too much attention."

Blaine nods stiffly and refrains from saying anything about the kilt.

His father sighs and gestures towards the bag over Blaine's shoulder. "You're staying at the Hummels', afterwards?"

Blaine nods again. "Yes, sir, in the guest room. We thought that would be better than either of us having to drive alone. Kurt's dad says it's okay."

"Then I guess it's okay." Another sigh, and then his father lays a hand on his shoulder, a little awkwardly. "But you call us as soon as you get back there, you hear me?"

"Yeah, dad, of course."

"Well, all right," his dad says, still not sounding too happy about any of this. Blaine doesn't blame him; for a split second he even wonders whether it might not be easier if his parents just refused to let him go, if they took the decision out of his hands entirely. But then he thinks of Kurt, of the gleefully excited texts he's been sending all day, and he knows it might make things _easier_ , but it wouldn't make them _better_ , not in the least.

"Just stay safe," his father adds, releasing his grip on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine knows a plea when he hears one. The lump in his throat gets a little bigger, a little harder to swallow down.

He does his best, though, saying: "We will, dad," with as much forced confidence as he can muster as he heads out the front door.

.

By the time Blaine reaches the Hummel-Hudson house, Finn's already left to pick up Quinn, so it's just Blaine sitting in the living room with Kurt's parents, waiting for Kurt to finish getting ready and come downstairs. It's not _horribly_ awkward, but it's a little bit uncomfortable, because Burt is so clearly unsure about this whole night, and Blaine has a sneaking suspicion that he's also aware of Blaine's own hesitance as well. So while Carole compliments Blaine's tux and talks about how thrilled she is for the two of them, how proud, all Burt says is: "You two take care tonight, you hear?" and Blaine can only nod and say: "Yes, sir," in the same tone of voice he used with his own father.

Kurt comes downstairs just as Blaine is starting to wonder if he ever will, with a skip and a twirl and what might be a curtsey, saying: "Well, how do I look? And don't say fantastic because that would only be stating the obvious."

There are a lot of words Blaine would like to use right now, but none of them seem entirely appropriate with Kurt's parents in a position to hear them, so he goes for a safe option instead: "Amazing," he says, and kisses Kurt on the cheek, because that's also more parent-friendly than what he actually wants to do. "You look amazing."

"Also a no-brainer," Kurt says, trying to sound less pleased than he clearly is. "I'll let it slide this time, though. Now, your turn, let me look at you."

Blaine presents himself for consideration, allowing Kurt to turn him around and smooth a hand over his jacket, straightening his tie a fraction.

"So? How do I measure up?" Blaine asks, hoping against hope that he's got this right because the idea of showing up to take Kurt Hummel to prom while anything less than immaculately attired seems cosmically _wrong_. "Anything I need to change?"

"No," Kurt says, and he looks rather impressed, Blaine is proud to admit. "You're perfect. Oh, except— there is _one_ thing ..."

He goes out of the room for a second and comes back in with a pair of matching boutonnières – pink carnations, it looks like – and pins one onto the lapel of Blaine's jacket. Then he gives Blaine a kiss of his own, only this one is on the mouth, and Blaine figures that's probably okay in front of Kurt's parents as long as Kurt's the one who kissed _him_.

"There," Kurt says afterwards, a little breathlessly. "Now you're perfect."

As Blaine pins Kurt's flower on for him in turn, all he can think is that he'd do pretty much anything to get through this evening if it means Kurt will keep smiling like he is right now.

.

Blaine spends the first half an hour of prom looking for the nearest exit, before he manages to relax into it a little and tone his levels of anxiety down to a bare minimum.

By some mutual, unspoken agreement, he and Kurt steer clear of the dance-floor, except to stand on the sidelines and pass judgement (quietly) on some of the more heinous clothing choices people have made. It's a relief, Blaine is slightly ashamed to admit, but it seems like Kurt is no more inclined than he is to step out together, so he doesn't let himself dwell on the matter.

They don't dance, then, at least not with each other (when Tina, Mercedes and Santana are doing Gaga, Kurt does let Brittany and Lauren drag him into the crowd for a bit), but they hang out with Kurt's friends at their table, try the punch and wonder exactly how long it's going to take somebody to spike it, make wild guesses as to who's going to be the first person Coach Sylvester throws out of the gym for some arbitrary reason.

It's really okay; it's fun, even, but Blaine still feels grateful when Puck and Sam finish their second Justin Bieber number of the night (and seriously, what is _with_ that?) and it's finally Blaine's turn to take the stage.

He can tell a few people are wondering who he is when he steps up to the mic (though not as many as he might have imagined, and he can't help but think he has his impromptu "goodbye Kurt" performance with the Warblers to thank for that), but the atmosphere is high enough that all Blaine has to do is throw himself as enthusiastically into the song as possible and within a few bars the crowd are carried along with him.

And this is so _easy_ , so _practiced_ , and Blaine is happy to be noticed right now because this is something he _does_ and does _well_ , not something he _is_ and can't change. This is the good kind of attention, right here.

There's Blaine's solo, and then his duet with Tina, and by the end of both he feels more calm and centred and like the tight knot of tension he's been carrying coiled up inside himself all week has finally loosened.

By contrast, Kurt – when Blaine finds him in the crowd again afterwards – looks decidedly unhappy, even harassed, and that's not helping Blaine maintain his sense of inner calm, not at all.

"What happened?" he asks.

Kurt turns to him and purses his lips. "Urgh," he scoffs, "My _idiot_ of a stepbrother just managed to get himself _thrown out_ of prom for starting a fight with Jesse St. James."

And okay, that's fine, Blaine can cope with that. He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Rachel's date? Wow, you weren't wrong about him being unable to make up his mind about her, huh?"

"No," Kurt says, with a heavy sigh. "Unfortunately, though, it seems I _was_ wrong about glee club helping to distract him from it."

"So, has he gone home?"

"Yes," Kurt says. "I went out to the parking lot and told him he was an absolute _moron_ , and now he's going home to hopefully be told the same by both our respective parents."

Blaine can feel the coil tightening again.

"You were in the parking lot?" he says, doing his best not to let the sudden panic sound too clearly in his voice.

He must not do a very good job, however, because Kurt looks at him sharply and then, his face softening into understanding, says: "Not alone, Blaine. Finn was there—"

"Finn left."

"Mike was there, too," Kurt says. "And Puck. Honestly, I was out there for two minutes and there were other people around the whole time. It's fine."

Blaine nods. "And you didn't see—"

"There wasn't anybody, Blaine. Nobody even looked at me, I swear."

Kurt reaches out and lets his hand brush up against Blaine's arm. It's the most contact they've allowed themselves since they left Kurt's house, and it's like Blaine can feel it all the way down to his toes, grounding him.

"Okay," he says, fear and panic blowing out of him like a long-held breath. "Okay, that's— yeah, okay."

Kurt just smiles at his lack of loquaciousness and says: "You were amazing, by the way."

Blaine smiles back at him. "Is that your unbiased opinion?" he asks, teasingly.

Kurt sniffs and lifts his chin up. "Of course," he says, loftily. "As always. Though, if you're suggesting that my ability to be objective is impaired by the nature of our relationship, I'd be more than happy to provide constructive criticism on some of the ridiculous facial expressions you were pulling up there."

Blaine laughs, properly, for what feels like the first time all night; maybe all week, if he's being honest. "Ridiculous, am I?" he says. "I thought you said I was amazing?"

Kurt rolls his eyes. "In your case, the two seem to come almost exclusively hand in hand."

"So, I'm ridiculously amazing?" Blaine asks, grinning now, feeling buoyed up by his performance and the success of the evening so far and by Kurt smiling at him like he's physically incapable of doing anything but.

"Or amazingly ridiculous," Kurt says, quirking one eyebrow at Blaine. "I haven't quite made up my mind yet."

But the way Kurt's still smiling and bumping their shoulders together makes Blaine think that isn't quite true.

.

Later, Blaine stands at the edge of the crowd and watches as Dave Karofsky leaves Kurt to dance alone, a tacky plastic crown on his head that not even Kurt can carry off successfully (though Blaine likes to think he looks better than most).

Blaine had thought, earlier, that perhaps the fact he hadn't run when they called Kurt's name in the first place might be enough to pass for courage. He doesn't have an over-abundance of the stuff, that much is clear, but he thought maybe, just maybe, if he breathed deep and held himself together, willed his heart to slow and the lump in his throat to lessen, kept his legs from carrying him away from here even though he feels sick and unbalanced and completely fucking terrified, he thought maybe that might be all he had to do, that that was bravery enough.

But now Kurt is alone, stranded in the spotlight (where, for once, he has no desire to be), and Blaine knows it's going to take more than that. More than watching from the sidelines, more than a cheap performance and a bit of swagger up on stage. More than any front Blaine can put up or all the false confidence a song and smile might give him.

Kurt deserves someone who'll be brave when he needs them to be, and not just when there's a microphone to hide behind.

If Blaine does this, then, it has to be for real, and not for show. There won't be any turning back, he has to _mean it_.

He takes a deep breath, straightens his cuffs, and steps out of the crowd onto the dance-floor.

.

Kurt still has the crown on his head later that night in his room, when he puts both hands on Blaine's face and _kisses_ him, hard.

"What was that for?" Blaine asks afterwards, unable to keep his voice from shaking a little. The last few months he has kept track, quite diligently, of Kurt's kisses, their diverse forms and variations, what kind of kiss a particular situation will merit. He has no record of this one, he doesn't think. This one is new, and Blaine's not sure what it means, yet.

Kurt shrugs and lets his arms slip round Blaine's shoulders, holding him close so that his left cheek bumps up against Blaine's.

"Being there," Kurt says. "You didn't have to be."

"Yeah, I did," Blaine says, simply.

"You didn't _want_ to be, then."

Blaine considers denying this, but they are quiet and close, and dishonesty feels somehow like a betrayal of that. "No," he admits. "Not at first. I'm glad that I was, though."

"Really?" Kurt says, sounding sceptical.

Blaine nods. "Absolutely. It's not every day I get to dance with royalty, now, is it?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and says: "You're ridiculous," but he touches a hand to his crown nonetheless, quietly pleased. Blaine kisses him this time, because he can and because he's wanted to all night, and then, when they part, says: "Amazingly ridiculous?"

Kurt doesn't laugh, but he smiles, and it reaches his eyes the same way it did when Blaine asked him to dance. "Definitely, yes," he says, and then, softly, up against Blaine's mouth: "More the other one, though."

They kiss again, for longer this time, until Kurt eventually pulls himself free of their embrace and sits down on the edge of the bed, starting to unlace his boots.

Blaine fidgets awkwardly. "I guess this is goodnight, then?" he says, reluctantly.

Kurt looks up at him, shakes his head in firm disagreement, holds his hand out to grab at the arm of Blaine's jacket and pull him closer. "No, not yet," he says. "My dad says it's okay for us to stay in here a while before you have to go to the guest room, as long as we—"

"As long as we keep the door open?" Blaine finishes for him, sitting down heavily on the bed next to him.

"You catch on fast," Kurt says, teasing.

Blaine shrugs, toeing off his own shoes and loosening his tie a little, feeling some of the tension leach out of his body as he does so. "It's hard not to," he says, "when your dad makes a point of saying it every single time I come over, even if we're just sitting in the living room. Your living room doesn't even _have_ doors, Kurt."

Kurt does laugh this time, but just a little, before he finishes removing his boots and lines them up neatly at the side of the bed. He takes his jacket off, too, and then the crown, laying it to rest on the nightstand. He stares at it for a moment, a look of uneasy contemplation on his face, and then he says: "I'm not sure why I was surprised, really, it seems so obvious, now. I should have seen it coming."

Blaine takes off his own jacket and lays it across his lap, touching his fingers to the flower pinned to his lapel. He wants to keep it from spoiling, wonders if his mother will show him how to press it. "If you had known what was going to happen," he says, quietly. "Would you still have gone?"

Kurt sighs and shrugs, turning to face Blaine again. "I don't know," he says, "Maybe. I think— yes? I would have thought of a wittier acceptance speech beforehand, of course, but yes, I think I would have." He tilts his head at Blaine, looks at him in anxious expectation. "What about you?" he asks, hesitantly. "Would you still have come with me?"

Blaine nods and says, "Yes," without hesitation; default setting kicking in again, but it's only after he's said it that he realises it's actually true.

Kurt beams at him, sun breaking through clouds, and Blaine takes his hand and thinks again, _yes_.


End file.
